Estela tel' Silma
by klytaemnestra
Summary: An intimate conversation between Legolas and Haldir in Lothlórien.


Author: Beautifully Twisted

Email: SkyFaIIs@aol.com

Title: Estela tel' Silma

Notes: I do not own J. R. R Tolkien, and/or the characters/names/et cetera, obviously. I have only read a small fraction of the works posted here; therefore if this has been done before I am ignorant of such. This also is an excerpt from a larger piece, which I shall begin posting in the near future. Also, this could be considered the tiniest bit slashy, but don't let that put you off. If you have a problem with slash and still read this, and then proceed to flame me, I have but one thing to say to you: Auta miqula orqu.

About the Language: Basically, there's a considerable amount of Sindarin found in this text, I tried to keep it as a minimal though I was tempted to write all the dialogue in it. There's a translation found at the bottom, and though I speak near fluent Sindarin now I'm not promising that all the words are exact to their meanings. It's more of the general idea.

Dedication: To Ally, my Haldir muse.

**Estela tel' Silma**

  


It had been an age ago since he had last ventured into the protected woods of Lothórien. The trees yet remained in their splendour despite the signs of an untimely frost, though the bitterness of that chill was present in all whom resided amongst the golden trees. An end of an era was drawing near; it was in everything that lived and once flourished amongst the woodland. The very trees held much memory of old, and the songs of elves long past haunted the air.

Within these golden woods, he had come before and found a friendship most unique. Yet, it had been years of wandering endlessly, forgetting what ensnared his heart. He had moved on, and watched as generations flourished and faded, ever walking amongst mankind as an observer, wise and aloof, knowing that time divided the races. His own kin were verification of this, and for that he had not ventured from his homeland for many years. Yet the heart does grow fond, when only snatches of a once wondrous memory remains.

A gentle breeze wafted through the leaves, silver tipped in the pallor, beckoning him into the depths of the forest. He ventured further into the woods, far from the eyes and ears of his distant kin, till he reached a grove. There amidst the trees, bathed in moonlight, stood his once greatly loved companion. 

The Elf smiled lightly, observing the approaching delicate creature. '_Mae govannen, mela_. [1]' 

'_Nae saian luume', Haldir_. [2]' His was voice smooth and melodic, as he returned the smile.

Closing the distance between the two, he clasped the hands of the Lórien Elf.

'Indeed, _mellonamin_. [3]' He replied, placing a light, chaste kiss upon the smooth, delicately sculpted cheekbone of his comrade. 'You have been greatly missed.'

'The sorrow was mine, for I have long counted the days since our last encounter.' Legolas voice was slightly haunted by the ghosts of a lifetime long past; ghosts which he feared to revive. It had been within these same woods that he had first vowed affection to another, and though that love was soon relinquished for sake of honour, it lingered on within his heart for love can never truly die, only lie dormant.

'Then grieve no more; you shall learn I am but a little different from whenst last we met.'

'Older and wiser?'

'Older, yet jaded perhaps.' In his pale eyes there flickered mournfulness most common among the elder of the Elves, those who had witnessed the decline of their own kind from these lands.

'I would not for the world you feel as such.'

'Not for the world, nay … yet our time is passing, Legolas.' He took the smaller Elf in his arms, and for a time that could have been as short as a moment or as long as years gazed deep into his hauntingly blue eyes. 'Will you sail to the West with the others when your time comes?'

'_N'uma, mela en coiamin_. [4]'

'_N'uma_? [5]' His smooth brow contorted with question.

'I have a duty yet unfulfilled.' He spoke plainly, betraying nothing to his companion, '_Amin dele ten' sen_. [6]'

'As do we all.' He traced the contour of Legolas' cheek, '_Ilgorga, melamin_. [7]'

'I fear for the stability of the Fellowship. There is evil among us, I can feel it. A weakness among men that shall threaten to destroy those faithful to the ringbearer.'

Haldir drew in an airy sigh, 'I have felt such, as has the Lady. This link shall show its weakness in due course. _Uuma ma' ten' rashwe, ta tuluva a' lle_. [8]'

'_Amin ilnauva_. [9]'

Haldir smiled lovingly at his companion, and clapped his arm about Legolas' shoulder, 'Come, let us talk of happier times.' He remembered all too well the days of yore before the lands had become spoiled by greed and lust of power. A time before orcs roamed freely through the lands of his kindred, before evil had been unleashed upon their protected woods. There had been a time when an Elf could safely distance a journey from Lothórien to the neighbouring havens, yet recent attacks had driven his kin deep into the forest, venturing out only to escort visitors and scout out potential invaders. It had pained him most to learn that the evil his kindred had sensed had foreshadowed the return of the one who held his heart. Perhaps a prophesy of the evils destine to befall, and with that brought the prospect that all must come to a necessary end.

Yet hope remained. In the eyes of the one he loved, he found a similar hope-though clouded with questioning doubt. He longed to erase that doubt from those eyes and set hope ablaze within that fading soul. If the company was to succeed even the smallest amount, hope must remain equivalent with trust. For without hope, trust is naught.

'There was a time when I would have been most content to sit among these trees and watch the starlight.' He mused with haunted remembrance, as he pulled Legolas down onto a mossy patch of earth to sit with him. 'Centuries pass, yet the heavens remain in all their splendour. Yet even the light of the silma shall fade in due course, it is symbolic of our passing.'

The stars had long been symbolic with the Elves, a sign of light and hope, a beacon in the gathering dark. Beneath these stars they had once professed their love. Those same stars once more would bring them together.

'I do not fear that passing, Haldir.'

'Nor should you. The Valar shall protect the Firstborn, for we have a purpose yet unforeseen.'

'Though, I fear I may not see the havens.' 

Haldir detected a twinge of apprehension in the voice of the Greenwood Elf, and pulled him closer into his arms, whispering soft words of reassurance and hope into a delicately pointed ear. 'You need not fear, the Halls of Mandos await those fallen.'

'And those who do not fall?'

Compassionate understanding fill the Lórien Elf's eyes, for he was all too aware of the fate that captured Elves were condemned to. 'Your will is strong, I do not fear that shall befall you.' He combed his hand through Legolas' flaxen locks. 'The grace of the Valar shall protect you.'

'_Uma, Haldir, amin weera yassen lle_. [10]'

Finding contentment in his companion's words, Legolas rested his head against the expanse of Haldir's chest. His fingertips idly played with the finely woven material of the Lórien cloak as he gazed into the heavens. He did not feel the doubt, nor harbour the grief of Gandalf's passing so dearly now. For there was still hope in this world, the stars spoke of it.

Sindarin translation:

[1] Well met, love.

[2] It has been too long, Haldir.

[3] My friend.

[4] No, love of the life of I.

[5] No.

[6] I am worried about them.

[7] Fear not, my love.

[8] Don't look for trouble, it will come to you.

[9] I will not.

[10] Yes, Haldir, I agree with you.


End file.
